Heat Up the Night (3 page)

Anticipation and all of that.

His waiting sub shifted on her bare feet, causing her ample breasts to ripple with the movement. Her hard nipples pressed against the empty air, begging for his mouth on them.

He moved behind her, aligning their hips and wrapping his left arm around her waist to lock her against his body. She canted her hips against him in the barest movement, but he felt the shift, the subconscious plea for more. His left hand splayed across her flat stomach, Keilor gently scored the nails of his right hand up her body, from her thigh to her stomach to the side of her breast.

At her sharp inhale, he flicked his thumb across one of her nipples.

“Keilor,” she gasped.

Oh, if that wasn’t the most beautiful sound…almost. “Keilor who?” he said before nibbling her ear.

Her eyes popped open in the mirror, glazed with desire. “What?”

He let his left hand shift lower, his pinky and ring finger dipping an inch below her waistband. A promise for more. “You called me Keilor, firebird. That’s not my name here.”

A shiver worked through her body. “Master Keilor.” Her voice pitched low and rough, just like he imagined she’d sound during sex.

“That’s my girl.” His palm rubbed over her nipple, abrading the tight peak. His mouth watered for the taste of her skin.
Later
, he promised himself. “Tell me your safeword.”

During their first scene, they’d talked about safewords, and Tovia had established her own word rather than using the yellow-red-blue house system. Said she liked the idea of having an off switch.

“Library.”

He had no idea why she chose the word, but whatever made her feel safe, he supported. Especially since he had every intention of pushing at the thick, high walls she’d built around herself. “Good. Are you ready?”

She nodded. He cleared his throat and waited. It took her a moment to understand his pause, then she scrambled for a reply. “Yes, Master Keilor.”

Though he wasn’t eager to step away from her, he did.
Discipline. Patience.
He repeated the words until his fingers unclenched from around her body.

He grabbed the floggers and did a quick warm-up in the air, falling into the Florentine pattern with ease. He’d been heavy into the BDSM community for more than a decade and had long ago decided he required of himself expertise in any implement he used on a submissive. He’d been lucky enough to receive mentoring from some of the finest Dominants around the country, first in San Francisco then in New York City. The floggers whished through the air in a one-two-three-four pattern that mimicked his heartbeat.

When his muscles hit their stride, he stopped to stash the second flogger on its hook. He wanted Tovia to get a good warm-up. He needed to test her reactions, especially after what Mike had told him about her recent visits to the club—no subspace, no concentration, and serious frustration with the whole thing. Not with him the first time, and not tonight. He wouldn’t allow it. She’d been a different woman in subspace, open and honest. Not the shuttered girl keeping others at a distance with her words.

Tovia’s shoulder muscles were taut, tense. He hung up the other flogger and returned to her side to massage her shoulders. “Tense?”

She shrugged. “Not more than usual.”

“Do you want to stop now?”

“No!” She swallowed and he saw her fingers clench around the bar. “No, Sir.”

The needy words cut at him. Everything about her tonight screamed
stress
. He would get to the bottom of her problems soon, but for now, he could recognize her need for release. Like lancing a wound, he’d help her siphon off tension.

Then they’d talk.

When her muscles started to unclench, he picked up his flogger once more and started up a slow, light rhythm across her back. Her skin blushed beneath the strokes. Even the soft deerskin flails of his custom flogger were enough for her sensitive flesh. Her ass would show a handprint so perfectly…

He maintained the steady beat against her back until she sagged bonelessly and her face had relaxed. No more clenched eyes, nibbled lips. She looked calmer already. He paused and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Doing okay?”

She nodded.

“More?”

“Please.” She swallowed, let her eyes flutter closed. “Master Keilor, I need more.”

Damn. This woman undid him. He’d give her anything she asked and more, if only she’d give him the chance. But he was determined. He would just have to whittle away at that fortress she kept herself in until he could free her from it. “Whatever you need, firebird.”

Forcing himself to be gentle when he wanted to lay siege to her defenses, he nipped at her neck then picked up both floggers, falling into the Florentine pattern for long minutes. When Tovia’s back arched into his blow, he picked up speed. Each stroke hit with more force until the thick slap-slap-slap-slap fought with the baseline of the music.

Her mouth fell open and her knees wobbled, then steadied. When her back was almost a solid red patch, he stopped.

A keening, “No,” tore from her throat before she bit off the plea.

Needing to touch her, he dragged his nails up and down her back. She danced beneath his hands, pressing herself into his touch. When she got too greedy, he smacked her ass. “Hold still.”

She froze, her muscles quivering while he imagined the handprint that would have marked like an indelible mark of his possession, had she not been wearing those damned shorts. His cock throbbed, wanting to lay claim to her whole body.

“What do you need, Tovia? Tell me.”

Her pink tongue flicked over her lips. He watched every movement of her face in the mirror as she haltingly answered. “I need…I need to let go.”

Yes, her defenses were definitely down. As much as he wanted to charge ahead, he knew that could only push her away in the long run. Tovia had safeworded their first time together, and he—and Samantha—suspected it was because their chemistry had been good enough to scare her away.

“I promise I will give you what you need.” She sighed in relief, her body sinking against him. “But you have to do one thing for me.”

Before she could stiffen and pull away, he swooped his arms around her, locking her in place. “No running this time, firebird. Not if you want release.”

She struggled for a moment and he waited to hear her safeword, but she didn’t speak. Her head fell forward. “Okay.”

“Promise to play with me next week. And me alone.”

She straightened, her ass pressing against his cock. “That’s it?”

He murmured his assent against her throat as he kissed her.

Her throat contracted as she swallowed. “And you’ll help me?”

Damn right he would. He’d help her right into his arms. Just like approaching a wild animal, he’d move in increments.

He’d seen the change in her before and after their first scene, like all the stresses of the week had been flogged off her skin. Samantha had taken him aside later, thanking him for whatever he did. She’d also admitted she was worried for her best friend, and that Tovia would never speak aloud how much she’d needed release.

“Yes, love, I’ll help you.”

“I agree.” She paused, then tilted her head back against his shoulder. “Master Keilor.”

Fuck control. He pulled her off the bar and spun her around. He caught a flash of surprise in her chive-green eyes before he kissed her, swallowing down her moan.

He didn’t know how long they stood there, making out like teenagers, and he didn’t rightly care. She’d agreed to spend more time with him, which was a huge success in his book. “Good. We’ll finish this in private, then.”

She opened her mouth to protest, and he pressed his thumb over her lips. “You’re the submissive, Tovia. That means you have all the power. Here in the main room, and when we are alone. You’ve got me at your command.” If only she knew how true his statement was.

Some of the wariness slipped from her face and she nodded. Good.

From a small nearby table, Keilor snagged a fresh blanket and tossed it around Tovia’s shoulders. Before she could object, he swept her into his arms, flicked his chin up at Mike and Samantha, who paused their heated conversation to watch him leave. Mike gave a wink and Samantha flashed a subtle thumbs-up. Though nothing would have changed his mind at that point, short of Tovia’s objection, their support reassured him.

Now he just needed Tovia on his side…on their side.

The good angel on her shoulder was telling her to safeword and get out. The little troublemaker had a voice eerily similar to her mother’s as she preached about the troubles men and relationships brought, and how she’d be better off, stronger, with only her friends and family. The devil on her other shoulder knocked out her counterpart before her poison words could get too far. Tovia knew this night was probably not her best idea in a long time, but damn did she need a little release. And no one but Master Keilor could do it for her.

Her sister’s new relationship had made her mother even more clingy and needy, sapping more energy from Tovia than she had to give, considering she’d increased her work hours. Not to mention seeing her sister so happy, even as she’d put herself in danger of heartbreak, shifted Tovia’s perspective. Dilated the lens until she conceded it was possible good men did exist. Somewhere.

It was possible, too, that Keilor was one of them, which should have been terrifying. But when he carried her against his body with ease, like she was a delicate little thing, there wasn’t room for fear, only the warmth of being coddled and cared for. It was a welcome relief after years of taking care of others.

She mentally released her white-knuckle grip on life and let it ease out, just an inch or two. She trusted him just enough to know he’d pick up the slack—Sammy’s gushing about him and Master Mike’s compliments about Keilor assured her of that.

So at least for one night, she was going to enjoy some self-indulgence.

Keilor gently carried her across the main play room and up the back staircase. Other members watched their departure, but she didn’t want to think about them, or anything else for that matter. She buried her face in Keilor’s neck, letting the faint lemon scent cheer her up. Sammy had mentioned some members had private quarters. Now she got to see them.

She got the barest glimpse of the hallway, glossy cream walls and a chocolate brown carpet, before Keilor entered a door near the end of the long stretch of rooms.

Inside his quarters, moonlight filtered through a huge window that ran the length of the space. She curled away from the exposure.

“It’s one-way glass,” Keilor reassured before setting her down on the edge of an orgy-sized bed. “Stay there.”

Outside the window and off a few miles, the strip lit the sky for miles. This view always made her smile. Most Vegas lifers had become jaded at some point, and though she was “over” many of the touristy lures, there was no other city quite like hers. She caught Cirque du Soleil shows as often as she could afford, and the Bellagio water show still made her grin like a kid.

From Keilor’s room, she could bask in the glow of her home, removed enough from the bustle of her daytime hours to actually breathe, to enjoy herself for once. She wanted to focus on herself—and on pleasing Keilor.

“Put the blanket on the table by the door.”

She started at his command. But she obeyed, folding the soft cover and fighting to keep her arms from crossing over her breasts. She wasn’t embarrassed by her nudity. Surprisingly, that part thrilled her. But under Keilor’s intense gaze, she was bared straight to her soul. Despite her discomfort, she remained exposed. Their first night together, she’d gotten a wallop for hiding herself after he’d explained—twice—it went against his protocols.

This time, she didn’t want to disappoint him. Bad enough she’d done that to four other dominants at Apogee. Letting down Master Keilor would gnaw at the edges of her self-confidence.

“Now your shorts.”

What? She’d never played without bottoms on. On the verge of protesting, she swallowed her words. Keilor’s cocked eyebrow brooked no argument. With shaking hands, she slid her black shorts off her legs and folded them atop the blanket.

“Are you always such a neat freak?” The gentle ribbing wiped away some of her unease.

“Always.” She chuckled and turned to face him. Now all that stood between her and this imposing Dominant was a lacy black thong.

He groaned and closed the distance between them in two strides, blocking her against the door. “You are so fucking sexy, firebird.” He pulled her hair free from its elastic and the long strands tumbled around her ears, the ends brushing against her puckered nipples. “God, Tovia. Tell me your safeword again, baby.”

His nearness addled her. The response took far longer than it should have. “Library.” Her safe space. Her escape.

Keilor nodded, the Vegas lights getting glinting off his smooth scalp. “Are you ready?”

What a loaded question. The devil on her shoulder pushed her into the deep end of the pool. “Yes, Sir.”

He spun her to the door, tugging at her hips until they arched back toward him. “Keep your palms on the door.”

The cool wood stole some of the heat swamping her body. She let her head slump forward to hang between her outstretched arms. An approving groan came from behind, and pride curled through her. Keilor made her feel powerful, not weak. She stored up the feeling, vowing to hoard all the good vibes he incited in her. They’d need to tide her over for quite a while.

One of his large, kitchen-rough hands rubbed circles on her right butt cheek, then the left. Tingles erupted everywhere he touched.

A volley of slaps hit her skin, no discernible pattern or strength. She tried to keep up, predict what would come next, but she couldn’t. Finally, she just accepted it, taking whatever he doled out to her. She focused on her breathing, letting the spanks wash over her like asynchronous waves until they filled her mind and body to the exclusion of everything else. Minutes, hours, she had no idea how long she floated.

Damp arousal coated her pussy when an extra stingy smack landed and she gasped. “Please!” That was what she needed, a blade of pain, one big delete button for her exhausted mind.